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There would be no catching my breath, but I found enough composure to leave his space. Our eyes shifted to the coffin, and I moved to his side, taking his hand.
“It’s your turn to say goodbye, Jake.”
He didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off Pop. “I already did,” he said with his voice rough and whispery. And before he swept me out of the church, he laid his hand on the shiny dark wood and said a thousand words with the gesture.
The ride back to the house was quiet, the windows down and the breeze whipping my hair out of its confines, but I didn’t care. I sat in the middle of the bench next to Jake, felt the warmth of him across the thin space between us. And I watched the world sweep by without seeing anything at all.
But as the wind spun around us, I found for the first time all day, I could finally breathe.
As we rolled up the driveway, I worked on my hair. The yard was packed with cars in such a haphazard manner, I didn’t know how anyone would leave unless they all left together. I was marveling over this when Jake slapped the dashboard, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.
My face swiveled to find him tight with fury, his lips the thinnest line and brows sharp. “Goddammit. Goddamn them all. Today of all days.”
“Who? Goddamn who?”
“The Pattons.”
A crackling anxiety flitted over me, through me. “Why would the Pattons be here? I thought they and Pop hated each other.”
“They do. Did,” he corrected darkly. “I saw them at the funeral and thought that was enough gall. But to come here? To the farm they’ve tried to destroy for more than a hundred years? I could turn Chase Patton’s face inside out for this. I could turn his face inside out for a lot of things, but especially this.”
“What do you think they want?”
“To make a show of it all. To posture. To pretend they care for the sake of the town. To be a couple of entitled dicks. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want them off the property. Now.”
He pulled around to the old barn and parked in its shadow. But before we left this last quiet, safe place, I stayed him with a hand on his arm.
“You can’t make them leave, Jake.”
“Like hell I can’t. And why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason not to chuck the Patton pricks out the front door and down the steps.”
“Today isn’t about them—it’s about Pop. The whole town is here, Jake. Everyone’s watching.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t say anything.
“If we’re going to turn this place around, we have to play nice, especially with the Pattons. They could make our lives hell if they really wanted to. So let’s not give them a reason.”
Again, he was silent, that muscle at his jaw bouncing and ticcing with the grind of his teeth as he considered.
“All right, fine. But they’d better not put a toe out of line, or there won’t be diplomacy. Only force.”
“Then I guess it’ll be my job to make sure they keep all their toes in their shoes where they belong.”
He almost smiled—I saw the glimmer of it. But it disappeared in place of concern. “You ready for this?”
“Absolutely not. You?”
“Never. But in a few hours, it’ll be behind us. That’s something to celebrate.”
“Amen to that.”
“And if I break a Patton limb, we’ll celebrate that too.”
I laughed as he opened the door and stepped out, offering his hand to help me out on his side. And as I took it, I wondered over this man, the gentle—albeit grumbly—man who held me while I cried and helped me out of the truck like a proper gentleman. I barely recognized him, much preferring this version of him to the smug fellow who would love nothing more than to see me crash and burn before putting the entire country between us again.
People had gathered in clusters outside and on the porch, so we snuck around back to avoid the first wave. We headed inside in silence, sharing a look before he opened the door and ushered me inside.
The house was full to bursting and warm from the crowd. The only space not occupied by people was occupied by furniture, and when we entered, every face in the place turned to us.
There was a collective sigh and a flurry of hellos and brushes of arms and we’re so sorrys and he’ll be missed. And Jake and I wound through the throng, stopping when we could, hugging when it was required, shaking hands when they were offered.
Eventually, we exited the crowd into the kitchen, which hadn’t filled with people simply because no one could get in Kit’s path without paying for it with a burn or a potential shanking. Kit tended to run with knives.
